Foresight
by Sadie Dragonfire
Summary: Starscream's planning would prove their victory, in the end. Live action movie, set shortly before ROTF. Starscream: Worst. Mother. Ever.


**Title:** Foresight  
**Fandom:** Transformers, live-action movie  
**Pairings:** NADA, none, zilch.  
**Warnings:** Giant robots. Also, some ick with the pods of Decepticon babies hanging all over.  
**Notes:** Set between the '07 movie and "Revenge of the Fallen".

* * *

The nursery chamber was rarely silent. Drones and other lower-ranked Decepticons trundled about at all hours, crawling amid the hanging pods of developing protoforms with sensors flashing in the gloom. The hatchlings required constant monitoring to ensure that their gestation pods were being provided the needed amount of mineral-rich fluid, that the necessary programs were being downloaded into their processors, and that, most importantly, they still lived.

Starscream felt a surge of dissatisfaction as one of the nursery drones cut down yet another dead hatchling. The nanites it was composed of had, according to the logs, stopped reproducing themselves nearly a cycle ago. Already they would be dying and solidifying together. A fossil. A lifeless metal shell to be fed back into the recycler. Useless.

The drones began resetting the empty gestation unit to create a new pod. Starscream turned away from the sight.

The hatchling nearest to him was approaching its final stages, empty red optics peering blindly through the cloudy liquid. Even so, it would be a long while yet before death became a concern. Perhaps, by then, a power source would have been found and this hatchling would live to serve under his command.

Starscream raised a claw to tap the surface of the pod.

"It looks like Megatron, don't you think?" he said, casting his voice toward the entrance. He didn't need to look to know who was there. The energy signal was unmistakable.

"Negative; the protoform is of a different model," Soundwave said.

He was an uncommon sight in the nursery. Soundwave, like many of the other Decepticons, disapproved of keeping the nursery active. It was a waste of energy, they said. A poor use of swiftly dwindling resources.

It was foresight, Starscream said. Creating new Cybertronians took more than resources; it took time. Years and years to make even a medium sized protoform. Only the Allspark brought about life in an instant and they didn't and never again would have the Allspark.

His hands curled against the pod. Furious, disgusted. If only Megatron had been a little faster, a little less distracted by his obsessive need to defeat his brother, he could have taken the cube. It was there, right there, protected only by a fragile, easily broken little fleshling. But no, no, battling Prime was more important, more...

Warnings flashed at him. He eased off the pod before the skin could puncture. It wouldn't do to reward the immature soldier with death before it's time.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Starscream said, "It has his aura of --" Failure. Cruelty. Insanity. "-- authority. A royal bearing, you might say." He vibrated with sudden amusement. The fancy pleased him.

"The protoform has not yet developed consciousness nor mobility," Soundwave pointed out.

"Try to use a little imagination for once," Starscream said snidely, "I know you have the programs for it."

There was a faint click of metal against metal. Starscream had only that brief warning before Soundwave had hardjacked into the nursery's database, breaking through the firewalls with minimal effort.

"Thirty more hatchlings have failed to achieve functionality since the destruction of the Allspark," Soundwave said.

Starscream hissed a curse. As always, there was no inflection in Soundwave's voice, no betrayal of emotion, but the accusation was unmistakable. After all, Starscream had not only claimed a third of that number had been lost during the last status meeting, he'd hacked the logs to reflect the same false data.

But the backup files had been left unaltered, as much for his own future reference as from the belief that no one would bother to dig that deeply. Starscream had always been the only one who cared what happened in the nursery.

Galvanized by this proof of his own foolishness, Starscream spun on the other mech.

"And what of it?" he demanded, the weapons on his arms clicking out into ready position. "I'm still the leader here! Are you questioning my decisions, Soundwave? Or do you wish to join Megatron in the pit?"

Soundwave's only movement was his data cords as they disconnected from the wall and coiled back under their panels. He was half again Starscream's size, but more importantly; he wasn't alone. His symbiots nestled in specially designed niches in his frame, their silvery armor blending seamlessly into his. It was impossible to know how many he carried at any given time.

It should have been dangerous to threaten to Soundwave. Instead it was merely pointless.

"Next cycle," Soundwave said, not acknowledging the cannons that heated and whirled at him warningly, "I will begin recon on planet, designation: Earth. Last known location of Megatron and the Allspark."

Starscream liked to believe he pitied Soundwave for his pathetic, slave-like devotion to Megatron, but in truth, the feeling was much closer to hatred. Starscream let his weapons drop and turned away in clear dismissal.

"If you feel like wasting your time," he snapped.

He'd known a group of the Decepticons had been planing to retrieve and revive Megatron from that Primus-forsaken planet. They would say it was at behest of the Fallen, if questioned, but Starscream knew better. It figured that Soundwave would be the first to tell him directly.

_Even dead, Megatron, you attempt to usurp my rightful place_, he thought. He ignored the sound of Soundwave's departure and returned his claws to the hatching's pod.

Resources would be found. They would _always_ be found. Time, he had learned, was far more precious, and too easily squandered by his long lived species. When they had the energon they needed, the new wave of the Decepticon army would be grown and ready to move. Starscream's planning would prove their victory, in the end.

His pressed his claws tighter against the gestation pod. Warnings blared.

It would prove _Starscream's_ victory. And Megatron's ultimate, final, _glorious_ defeat. He didn't have to kill Megatron -- or this case, ensure his continued death -- to win. He just had to show how wrong Megatron was. To show that he, Starscream, was the true leader of the Decepticons.

The pod's skin ruptured, gushing fluid over his arm. Starscream sidestepped as the hatchling fell limply to the floor and kicked away the drone that rushed over to curse him out. He left the nursery chamber, his laughter echoing behind him.

It really had looked just like Megatron.

END

* * *

there's nothing left to win, Starscream.


End file.
